Daughters of Fortune: A Novel (60 page)

That evening, Piers was due to have dinner with William. The ten-year age gap between the two men had never been so obvious. The stress of Armand Bouchard’s takeover bid had caused another angina attack. Piers sensed that the episode had upset his brother, reminded him again of his own mortality. It was the perfect time for him to raise the subject of Elizabeth.

“So did Elizabeth finally get around to speaking to you?” he asked.

William looked up sharply. “No. Why?”

“Oh!” Piers feigned surprise. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

William scowled. “Come on. Spit it out.”

“Honestly, William. It’s nothing. She’s just worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” William was on the defensive now. “In what way? What did she say?”

Piers pinched the bridge of his nose. “She simply mentioned that she’s concerned about your health, especially now that this Bouchard mess has reared its head again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Piers looked uncomfortable. “Well, she thinks we need a strong management team if we’ve got any hope of defeating his bid.”

William’s eyes narrowed. “And she doesn’t think I’m up to it, is that what you’re saying?”

“Heavens no!” Piers protested. “She’s just worried about the stress all this is causing you.”

William’s voice was cold as he said, “Well, you can tell her from me that she’s got nothing to worry about.”

A few days later, Elizabeth finally managed to get an appointment with her father.

“Daddy,” she said immediately, “I think we need to have a serious chat about your succession plans.”

William was immediately suspicious. “What plans?”

“Well, I assumed—”

“I wouldn’t assume anything, Elizabeth,” he interrupted. “As you can see, I’m fit and healthy and have no intention of going anywhere.”

“But the other week—”

“The other week was nothing. It was just a small episode.” He gave a wry smile. “Would you jump into my grave half as quick?”

“Daddy! I didn’t mean it like that! I just think that your choice of next chief executive is something we ought to talk about.”

“Why? What’s it got to do with you?”

Elizabeth felt confused. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to turn out. “I would have thought it had everything to do with me,” she said. “I’ve spent the past three years sweating blood, getting this business back on its feet!”

“Don’t exaggerate,” William said icily. “You’re not the only one who cares about this business, and you’re not the only one who helped turn things around.”

“Oh, yes? And who else helped? Caitlin, I suppose.”

He looked at her levelly. “Now you mention it, Caitlin has played her part.”

It was precisely the wrong thing to say. “Oh, please,” Elizabeth scoffed. “She might be good at designing, but that doesn’t mean she’s got what it takes to run a major company. She doesn’t have it in her, and you must be losing it if you think she has!”

“Don’t talk about me or your sister like that!” William thundered.

“
Half
sister, Daddy,” she shot back. “You might want to remember that.”

“And
you
might want to remember that I am still in charge of this company.” His voice was cold, his eyes like flint. “For now, what I say goes.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

It was the worst outcome Elizabeth could have imagined. But she didn’t realize that her life was about to disintegrate even further.

Elizabeth would always remember the exact moment she realized Cole was having an affair. It was the night of his birthday, and he’d decided to hold a dinner in the private dining room of Osaka. She was late as usual, a last-minute crisis at the office. She rushed into the restaurant, flustered, knowing she didn’t look her best, wishing she’d had time to get her hair done and change into the new outfit she’d bought.

Dinner was already under way by the time she reached the dining room. Cole was at the head of the table, and his assistant, that mousy little Japanese girl, was next to him. Elizabeth was about to walk over but something stopped her. She’d never really bought into that women’s-intuition nonsense, but somehow she sensed something wasn’t quite right.

She lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching Cole and Sumiko together. It wasn’t that they were doing anything obvious—holding hands or whispering to each other—they were simply eating sashimi, like everyone else around the table. But when some wasabi sauce escaped from the side of Cole’s mouth, Sumiko giggled and then reached up to wipe it away.

And that’s when Elizabeth
knew
.

It was like a physical blow. She faltered on her feet, had to grab the
doorframe to steady herself. She felt the bile rise from her stomach, as she remembered how Cole had joked about Sumiko’s crush on him, how she had teased him about it. But there was no time to feel sorry for herself. People had begun to notice her. She couldn’t run away and cry—and God, that wasn’t her style anyway. She had no choice but to go over to face them.

As she crossed the marble floor, the conversation at the table faded as the guests turned to watch her arrival. They were all waiting to see what she was going to do, she realized. Well, she wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of causing a scene. Instead, she pasted on a smile and walked over to Cole.

“Happy birthday, darling.” She leaned down to kiss him lightly on the mouth. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry about it.” And he meant it, too.

She realized then why he hadn’t been mad at her for missing the opening of Osaka; why he’d stopped bugging her about the hours she was working.

Elizabeth was still standing. Cole had made no move to find her a seat. There was a spare place at the other end of the table, but she was damned if she was going to sit there.

“Sumiko, would you mind,” she said, pointing toward the empty chair. “I’d like to sit next to my husband.”

“Of course, Elizabeth.”

The words were said politely enough, but Elizabeth couldn’t miss the touch of insolence in her eyes. It took all of her self-control not to slap the girl—and God, she was a girl, too—as she took her time gathering her belongings and vacating the seat.

Dinner was terrible. Elizabeth could feel everyone looking over at her, assessing her mood. Somehow, she kept up a steady stream of polite conversation. She stuck to mineral water, apart from a sip of champagne for the birthday toast, worried that alcohol might make her say something she shouldn’t.

The party broke up around midnight. She watched Cole kiss Sumiko briefly on the cheek, his hand lingering a fraction too long on her arm, and wondered how much more of this she could stand.

Husband and wife didn’t say much to each other during the taxi ride home. Throughout the meal, Elizabeth had envisioned confronting Cole when they got back, but once they were there, she couldn’t
find the words. They went straight up to the bedroom, undressing silently, backs to each other. How long had it been like this between them? Elizabeth wondered.

Once they were in bed, the lights out, she reached for him. She felt his reluctance at first, knew he wanted to pull away, but she was insistent, bringing her mouth down hard on his, making it clear what she wanted.

He gave in, but on his terms. There was no romance, no affection. He turned her over, so they couldn’t kiss, then mounted her, thrusting into her fast and hard. There was silence throughout the whole act, the only sound a low grunt when he finally came. Then he rolled away from her, still saying nothing.

She waited until his breathing deepened and she knew he was asleep before stealing out of bed and going over to the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she sat down on the edge of the tub and finally cried. She cried so long and hard that it was as though she’d never cried before, biting down on her hand so he couldn’t hear the huge, great hulking sobs that racked her body.

A long while later, she washed her face and headed back to bed.

She planned to say something the following morning, but she still couldn’t find the words. And as the days and weeks passed, she realized she wasn’t going to. She was surprised and appalled at herself. All those years she’d scorned her mother for sticking by her father, and now she was doing exactly the same thing. But the truth was, for the first time in her life she had no idea what course of action would be for the best. Because, when it came down to it, she still loved Cole.

She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for. But then fate has a habit of throwing in a catalyst, a wild card, a curve ball—something you’d never expect. For Elizabeth it was the third morning in a row when she found herself on her hands and knees, heaving over the toilet bowl. As she sat back on her haunches, wiping her mouth with a piece of hastily grabbed toilet paper, she remembered how preoccupied she’d been six weeks earlier. Preoccupied enough to forget to take her birth control pills around the time of Cole’s birthday. And preoccupied enough not to notice what she’d done until now, when it was far too late.

Getting through the days was an effort for Elizabeth. Everything was piling up on her, and she was waiting for something to crack. The situation
still hadn’t improved with her father. She was terrified that he was seriously considering making Caitlin the next chief executive.

Elizabeth was sick of hearing about Caitlin. She remembered when the girl had first arrived at Aldringham, shy, naïve, and awkward. How was it that now she seemed to have everything—the company, as well as a man who was madly in love with her, and a baby on the way—when she, Elizabeth, the original golden girl, had nothing?

She’d never really thought having a child was important to her. But now, in the position where she had no partner to be happy with her, to share in what should be a joyful occasion, she realized how much she wanted it. With no one to tell, she had never felt more alone.

The only person who seemed to be on her side was Piers. It was in him that she confided her fear that William was favoring Caitlin. They spent long evenings closeted in his office, as she ranted about the unfairness of it all.

“It’s ridiculous!” she declared, for what felt like the hundredth time. “I deserve this! I’ve given up everything for this business—all my time, my energy. Even my . . .” She had been about to say “even my marriage” but managed to stop herself.

“I know, I know,” Piers commiserated. “I’m on your side. I think your father’s on the verge of making a terrible mistake. I don’t want to see you cheated out of your inheritance, either.”

Suddenly all the fight went out of her. Between Cole and this . . . she just didn’t have the energy any longer. “But I suppose if Daddy wants it that way, there’s nothing I can do, is there?”

It had been a rhetorical question. But she saw the look that crossed Piers’s face—thoughtful, calculating—and the spark in his eyes. “What is it?” she said slowly. “What are you thinking?”

“I
might
have an idea how to get around this, to make sure you get what you deserve, after all.” He was studying her carefully as he spoke, as though looking for her reaction. “It’s not perfect, of course,” he continued. “But it might well be our only option.”

Elizabeth felt a prickle of unease. The way he’d said it, she sensed whatever he had in mind was going to go against her father’s wishes. But what choice did she have?

“Tell me,” she whispered.

Piers’s suggestion was for them to stage a management buyout—effectively an acquisition by executives within the company. He wanted
to pool their shares—his 5 percent and her 7.5 percent—then launch the takeover bid together. There was one main complication—as they wouldn’t have the personal funds to acquire the company outright themselves, they’d need to find an external backer.

“How hard would that be?” Elizabeth asked, both thrilled and terrified by what Piers was suggesting. Was she seriously considering this? Did she dare?

“I’ve been looking into it,” he said, a touch enigmatically. “I think there are a couple of private investors who might be willing to put up the money.”

His arguments were clear and concise. With two members of the family working together, their bid would be viewed favorably by the market—especially if they emphasized her part in the turnaround. He’d even put together a spreadsheet showing the price they could offer to buy at. If she was a little surprised that he’d gone so far on his own, she didn’t dwell on it. At first glance, the numbers looked good; they would be offering 40 percent above where the shares were trading. Of course, it was easy with a management buyout to put together a fair price—they were both insiders who knew the business well.

As Elizabeth studied the figures, she realized it might just work. At the level they were offering, it wouldn’t make much financial sense for Armand Bouchard to top that. And William wouldn’t be able to amass the sort of backing he would need in order to counter the bid.

“And with his ill health lately, I don’t think any bank will see him as a good risk,” Piers concluded. “Of course, I know neither of us wants to hurt your father,” he said hurriedly, “but it does seem to me that he isn’t thinking straight at the moment. Maybe in the long run he’ll even thank us for this.”

On her way home that night, Elizabeth wondered if she dared talk Piers’s proposal over with Cole. Usually she liked to get his opinion on any major decision within the company, since he often saw something that she didn’t. Maybe this would be a good way to get them talking again. But as soon as Elizabeth walked into the house, she knew it wasn’t to be.

Two brown leather cases stood by the front door. Cole was leaving her.

She found him in the living room, sitting in the dark. A glass of whiskey sat in front of him on the coffee table—it was hardly touched. Elizabeth
stood still, a cold feeling sweeping through her. She was surprised how strong her voice sounded as she asked, “What’s going on, Cole?”

Cole ran the tumbler of amber liquid between his hands. He couldn’t even look at her.

“I’m moving out. Slowly he raised his gaze to meet hers. “There’s no point in me being here. I haven’t been happy for a long time, and I don’t think you have either.”